


Until the Stars All Fall Down

by dancing_dazai



Category: Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Markiplier - Freeform, Pluviophile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancing_dazai/pseuds/dancing_dazai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Until the stars all fall down,</i><br/><i>They empty from the sky.</i><br/><i>If you're with me, then everything's alright.</i><br/><br/>When your flat's electricity cuts out and leaves you stranded in the midst of a huge thunderstorm, what happens when you get taken in by your handsome, blue-haired neighbour?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the Stars All Fall Down

The sound of thunder reverberates around the small block of flats, bouncing off the walls of your room which is lit up a moment later by the bright flash of lightning. The curtain covering the balcony door flails wildly as the storm throws it about and the wind whistles through the rooms, creating a soft, eerie melody.

You huddle up on the sofa under a soft, warm blanket, shivering slightly as another clap of thunder echoes around the room, scaring you half to death. You've always hated storms; they used to scare you when you were little, and the fear never really went away. You know it's childish, but you just can't help yourself. Thunder and lightning is horrible.

You sigh tiredly and do your best to relax—you know you won't be able to sleep through the storm so you may as well try and get some rest now, even if it is already late. You close your eyes and focus on the clock ticking on the opposite wall, trying to ignore the static coming from the TV as you try to get some rest.

Your eyes aren't closed for long before another loud crash of thunder brings you to your senses, the whistling of the wind rattling your balcony door on the other side of the room. You whimper and pull the blanket over your head, trying to block out the horrible noises, but to no avail. A moment later you hear a loud _crack_ , and you raise your head to find all the lights out in the flat, including the TV.

 _Great. The storm must be affecting the building's electrics_ , you think worriedly as you sit in the dark listening to the thunder. But now that the electricity isn't working, the room begins to cool down due to the lack of central heating. In a matter of minutes, the small, empty flat feels like the inside of a fridge.

You realise you have no choice but to go and find some warmth before you freeze to death and you reluctantly get up off the sofa, leaving the blanket behind. Stepping over to the door, you gulp as you venture outside into the hallway to find all the lights are off out here, too, due to the storm. You look around, searching for anyone who might be able to provide some warmth—and possibly moral support—but to your dismay, the corridor is deserted.

You sigh in defeat and slump down against the wall as you begin to shiver uncontrollably, feeling your fingers go slightly numb as you close your eyes. You suddenly feel drowsy and numb from the cold, and your head slumps down to the side as your breathing quickens.

You can't really comprehend anything that is happening around you but a few moments later you hear the creak of a door and a small gasp, and a pair of strong arms surround you and lift you off the ground. You're too cold to protest as the stranger holds you close to their chest, but you suddenly feel too weak to stay conscious and you slowly pass out in their arms.

* * * 

You wake to the gentle pattering of rain and your eyes flicker open, your chest feeling strangely heavy as you try to roll over onto your side. It doesn't take you long to realise that you're not cold anymore and that the heaviness on your chest is actually a blanket, and when you sit up you realise you're tucked into a large queen-sized bed. A small white candle flickers back and forth on the bedside table next to a mug of hot chocolate, and you start to wonder where you are, and how far away you are from your own flat.  
  
Since nobody else is around, you assume the drink was made for you, and you slowly lean over and pick it up. You take the mug and hold it up to your lips, sighing as the warmth of the hot chocolate soothes your throat.

You finish the drink quickly and decide that you shouldn't take advantage of this stranger's kindness, and that you should probably go. You climb out of the bed and slowly step into the living room to find it empty, but you don't ignore the fact that this room is significantly colder than the rest of the flat.

Then you see why.

Slowly, you turn your head to the side to see the balcony door wide open, and a man who is stood outside on the balcony. The first thing you notice is that he is soaked to the bone—his radiant blue hair is wet and stuck to his forehead, and his glasses are speckled with water—but to your astonishment, despite the rain and the cold and the lightning, you see that he is smiling.

Wait... _the lightning!_ You feel a stab of panic as you realise the danger that the man is in, and you rush towards the balcony door.

“Hey!” you cry worriedly, making sure to stay in the flat and not actually go outside. “You need to come back inside! The lightening, it– it might kill you!”

A clap of thunder punctuates what you're saying as the man turns around calmly, his handsome brown eyes meeting your own. He smiles.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft and low. “It's good to see you're awake. How are you feeling?”

You don't understand how he is so calm as another loud clap of thunder erupts from the sky. You shiver.

“I'm fine,” you say honestly, folding your arms across your chest, “but right now I'm more worried about you than myself.”

The man seems to appreciate that and he smiles softly, shaking his head as he turns back to the storm.

“You don't need to worry about me,” he assures you. “Just go back inside and get some rest.”

He turns his head around to look at you. “Unless you'd care to join me?”

You glance up at the darkening sky as the rain continues to fall and you think to yourself, _What the hell_. Besides, after all these years of being terrified of storms, you've never actually seen one.

You sigh and bravely step out onto the balcony next to the blue-haired stranger, and he smiles fondly.

“I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself.” He holds out a hand. “I'm Mark.”

You do you best to smile as you shake his hand gently. “I'm [Y/N].”

“Beautiful name.” He smiles as he turns his attention back to the storm. You do, too, starting to care less about the cold as you watch the rain fall. You haven't been outside for long when you hear another clap of thunder and shiver, stepping slightly closer to Mark and look away from the sky. Mark doesn't even flinch, and you turn to watch him curiously.

“You're a pluviophile, aren't you?” you ask quietly. “Somebody who is comforted by rain.”

Mark looks down at you fondly and shrugs.

“When you put it like that, I guess I am.” He smiles. “You, on the other hand, are terrified. I can tell.” You laugh quietly.

“Yeah, I am.” You sigh. “I've never even seen a storm this close up before.”

Mark grins. “Then you're in for a surprise when it's over.”

You're not sure how long you and Mark stay outside watching the rain fall, but it's long enough. After a while you decide to relax into his side and he puts his arm around your shoulders comfortingly, making sure you're alright.

Eventually the storm passes and the sky begins to clear, and the two of you watch the clouds vanish to reveal a sky full of more stars than you have ever seen before. Your eyes widen.

“Wow,” you breathe as you stare at the sky. Mark chuckles.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” he asks quietly. “I think of it as a metaphor: the storm is the bad things in life and the stars are the good. No matter how bad times will get, the storm will always pass and the stars will always shine through.”

“That's a very poetic way to put it,” you say flatly. Mark chuckles.

“What can I say, I'm a poetic guy.” He chuckles, clearing his throat and looking down at his shoes shyly.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he says quietly, putting his hands in his pockets. “I was wondering if maybe, you know... you wanted to stay here tonight? Just in case the storm comes back. I mean, this may just be the eye of the storm—you can never be too careful.” He fumbled over his words nervously, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You smile. “I'd like that, Mark.”

* * *

As it turns out, there _was_ another storm that night, but as you slept on the sofa curled up in Mark's arms, you can honestly say that you've never had a better night's sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!  
> (Please don't forget to leave a comment if you did!) <3


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